


A Cretaceous Christmas Carol

by PrehistoricCat



Category: Primeval
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrehistoricCat/pseuds/PrehistoricCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night before Christmas, and Abby is about to be visited by three "spirits"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cretaceous Christmas Carol

Abby sighed and bit on her bottom lip as she watched Connor. If he counted those notches on the tree trunk once more, she was going to strangle him. She failed to understand how knowing how many days they'd been stranded here for helped their situation. Sometimes she wished Connor would put his energies into something more practical, like finding them some decent meat to eat instead of the foul tasting roots and fish they'd been eating for the last two and a half months.

“75 days,” Connor announced finally and looking at Abby expectantly.

“So?” 

“So, that means it's 75 days since we came through that anomaly.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “And you wasted the last half hour working that out? Great.”

“It also means that tomorrow is Christmas day, if I've worked it out properly.” He looked at Abby again, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “We should do something special.”

Abby dropped her head and stared at her feet. Just when she'd thought things couldn't get any worse, Connor had to throw this at her. Surely even he realised that his over optimism was beginning to grate on her nerves. He was heading for a huge fall if he kept this up, and she needed to drag him back down to reality.

“Take a look around us, Connor,” she snapped. “In case you hadn't noticed, we're 85 million years from home. There are no Christmas trees here, no tinsel and the nearest thing to a turkey are those raptors we ran away from the other day.”

“I know that, I just thought we could... well we could improvise couldn't we? And besides, Christmas isn't just about the decorations and the food is it? Those don't really matter as long as you're with someone you … well, someone you're good mates with at least.”

“Don't start giving me all that crap about 'peace and goodwill' and being with loved ones, Connor. Christmas is about guilt tripping families into being together when the rest of the year they can't stand the sight of each other, and making parents buy expensive toys for their kids that they can't afford and run up huge debts.” Abby could feel herself getting incredibly wound up, her stomach was twisting itself into knots and her head hurt. When she saw Connor's smile disappear and the lost puppy look appeared, she flipped completely. He did that far too often, and it wasn't going to work this time. “Tomorrow will be just like any other day here, Connor, so stop pretending it's anything different. We have to be practical. We'll need food, we'll need water, and you need to finish the repairs to the roof of the shelter because the nights are definitely getting colder.”

“You're right, Abby,” Connor said, taking a deep breath and sniffing. He turned away, and Abby watched his shoulders drop. She'd certainly succeeded in knocking down that optimism at least. He would thank her for it eventually, once he'd stopped pouting about not getting his own way.

She busied herself with building up the fire ready to cook their final meal of the day, adding moss and dried leaves to it so that it burned more fiercely. It would last most of the night now, providing them with some much needed warmth as well as acting as a deterrent to most of the predators in the surrounding area. Connor had disappeared off into the thick of the forest, presumably to either sulk or catch some fish, probably both.

When he returned some time later, the night was beginning to creep in around them. Abby had eaten already, leaving Connor's share to one side of the fire pit to keep warm, and she was making the fire safe. Connor barely acknowledged her when he took his food and instead of taking his usual place next to Abby by the fire, he went inside the shelter. Abby couldn't help noticing the red around his eyes, clearly he'd done more than just sulk whilst he was away. Perhaps she'd been a little too harsh on him?

“Connor?” she called out. When he didn't reply, she stood up and followed him inside the shelter. He was already on one of the makeshift mattresses they'd woven from vines to try and make sleeping a little easier and pulling his foil survival blanket around him. “You OK?”

“I'm fine,” he answered, a little too quickly. “There's some good thick vine leaves by the river. Reckon they're perfect for plugging in the holes in the roof. I'll take the penknife out there tomorrow and cut some down. We should get those repairs done as soon as possible.”

“Yeah.” Abby grabbed her own blanket and settled onto her mattress. Finally Connor had seen sense. Survival was the most important thing and they couldn't allow any distractions from doing the essential things they needed to do. She rolled over to wish Connor pleasant dreams, but his back was to her. Sighing, she moved so that her back was his. Sometimes, Connor was worse than a child.

-o-

“Abby! Abby!”

The voice woke Abby with a start. At first, she thought it was Connor calling from outside, but when her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could see him still fast asleep next to her. Dismissing it as just her imagination, she closed her eyes again and tried to go back to sleep.

“Abby! Pssst! Out here!”

The voice was familiar, and it was not going to go away until Abby investigated. It was probably the wind whistling through the gaps in the shelter, or perhaps there was some creature outside calling to its mate and in her tired state it sounded like someone calling her name.

Grabbing one of the wooden spears that were kept by the doorway just in case, Abby crept outside. The fire was low and casting eerie shadows around the clearing and it made Abby shiver. Then she got the biggest shock of her life. Jack. He was stood there, clear as day, in front of her and frowning. She rubbed her eyes. Those roots they'd had to eat were probably hallucinogenic and he'd go away in a minute.

“Finally! Thought you'd never wake up!”

“What do you want?” Abby checked herself. She was talking to an hallucination. The time she'd been stranded was taking its toll on her and she was going crazy.

“There's something I need you to see,” Jack said, beckoning for her to follow him. Abby figured since this was just some kind of weird dream anyway, it would be OK to go. He disappeared behind the trees briefly until she caught up with him and then gasped. In front of her she could see something familiar. It was their childhood home, a place that should have been full of wonderful memories but only struck fear and loathing into Abby's mind.

“Why do I need to see this?” she spat, turning away. “We couldn't wait to get away!”

“Just watch,” Jack said, placing a hand on her shoulder and making her look at the scene in front of her.

Abby remembered it all too well. The flat was cold and dark even though they were all there. The money in the electricity meter had run out days ago and since Mrs Maitland had spent the last of her meagre wages on alcohol they had nothing to put in until she got paid after Christmas. In the corner of the room Abby could see herself, aged about 12, with Jack huddled against her. She could only just see her face, but the bruise was unmistakeable. This was the last Christmas they'd spent at home. She'd earned the bruise for daring to challenge her mother as to why there were no presents under the tree and yet their mother had been out buying herself a new dress and drinking until she could barely stand. Fortunately, not long after that, a teacher at Abby's school noticed her bruises and began to ask the right kind of questions. 

“This is why I hate Christmas,” Abby said. “You know that. I don't understand what you're trying to achieve here.”

“I'm not done yet!” Jack said, turning her around and almost shoving her. “This way, you need to see this too.”

The scene now in front of Abby was not familiar at all. It was apparently a foster home like one of the ones she and Jack had eventually ended up in, but she didn't recognise this one. It was decorated for Christmas with paper chains hung across the ceiling and a tree in the corner with presents underneath. The children were all happily playing and it was a perfect scene. Abby looked at Jack to ask why he was showing her this, but before she could ask he was nodding his head in the direction of a boy sat in the far corner all alone. 

When she first saw him, all Abby could see was a thick crop of unruly dark hair. The boy's head was bent down reading a book on his lap. After a few moments, Abby realised that the boy wasn't actually reading. His shoulders were shaking, and then he lifted a hand to his face to wipe his eyes. He was crying. 

Abby wondered what his story was. Jack had done a lot of crying during their time in care, but he was young and didn't really understand what was happening to them. This boy seemed older; old enough to know what was going on and too old to be crying like that in Abby's opinion. She watched as a carer went over to him and knelt beside him, placing a friendly hand on the boy's shoulder to make him look up. Abby gasped. Despite his young age, she recognised him straight away. It was Connor.

Now she was confused. Connor had never mentioned that he'd been in care, but then again, why would he? She'd not told him about her own childhood, mainly from embarrassment since she'd figured Connor had had the perfect upbringing. Then she noticed the young Connor pull something out that had been tucked inside his jumper. She recognised it, the gold ring that he always wore around his neck. For the first time, Abby actually wondered why he had it around his neck, then she felt shame. She'd known him for almost three years and she'd never once thought to ask him. Something that was so obviously important to him and she'd not given it a second thought. 

The carer that had been talking to Connor moved away and went to speak to another adult. Abby strained to hear what they were saying.

“That poor boy,” the first one said. “As if losing his father in that car accident wasn't bad enough, his mother's mental state is so poor she didn't even recognise him when he went to visit her in the hospital today.”

“What's the prognosis?” the second carer asked.

“Not good. They doubt she'll ever be well enough to look after him, and it's unlikely her memory will return. It seems she's shut the entire world off so that she doesn't have to accept the fact her husband is dead.”

They both looked over at Connor and smiled sympathetically. Abby wiped her cheek, not realising that she'd shed tears. What sort of friend was she? This was a major part of Connor's life and she hadn't a clue about any of it. He always seemed so happy when he talked about being a child and the times he's spent with his Gran... that was it... had he actually lived with his Gran instead of remaining in care, not just visited her as she'd always assumed?

She turned to speak to Jack, but he was gone and she was stood outside the doorway of the shelter. That had been one incredibly vivid dream but she couldn't remember how she'd actually got out of bed. Years ago, she used to sleep walk, but she hadn't done that in a very long time. The stresses of life in the prehistoric past was getting to her and playing havoc with her mind. Shaking her head, she went to go back inside but felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Not yet,” he said. Abby spun around and came face to face with Stephen Hart. This hallucination or dream or whatever it was was just getting weirder and weirder. 

“I don't need this!” she called out. “Go away!”

“Sorry, no can do.” Stephen replied. “You have to come with me.”

“Don't tell me you have some miserable scene from my childhood to show me too?”

“No, something more recent than that. Follow me.”

Abby followed Stephen, almost running to keep up with him. He moved swiftly over the pathway that she and Connor had worn into the undergrowth and led her to the small clearing by the riverbank where they stood to catch fish and fill their bottles with fresh water. In the blink of an eye, Abby found herself looking down into the main hub of the ARC. She could see Connor sat by the ADD with Stephen at his side and they were talking. She could tell from Connor's body language that he was nervous about something.

“This is the day before the office Christmas party last year,” Stephen said. “Connor was asking for my advice.”

Abby gave Stephen a look. “What could he possibly need help from you about?”

“Women,” Stephen said. “Well, one woman in particular. You.” He jerked his head over towards where Connor and himself were sat and Abby strained to listen.

“So why haven't you told her yet?” Stephen was saying.

“I've tried, but every time I open my mouth to say it something stops me.”

“You're an idiot. If you don't tell her soon, she'll be with someone else.”

“I don't think she likes me in that way anyway,” Connor said, looking down. “Whenever someone mentions boyfriend and me in the same sentence, she turns a shade of green and looks like she's about to throw up.”

“No she doesn't, you're imagining it because you think that's how she's thinking. Look, tomorrow night is your big chance. She'll have a couple of beers inside her and be nice and mellow. All you have to do is steer her under the mistletoe, make it look like it's an accident and then say 'guess that means I have to kiss you now' or something. Bingo, she's yours!”

“You make it sound so easy. You've never been on the receiving end of one of those looks she gives have you?”

Abby looked at Stephen. What did Connor mean by that? Stephen laughed. “You haven't got a clue when it comes to Connor have you?”

“He's my best friend, of course I have a clue!” Even as the words left her mouth, she knew Stephen was right. She hadn't known about his father's death, or his mother's illness until a few minutes ago, and now she was finding out that Connor seemed almost scared of her. Was she really that bad? She tried to remember what happened at the party – Connor made no attempt to get her under the mistletoe as far as she recalled, in fact he actually left early and she didn't see him until after Boxing day when he returned from seeing his family in Blackburn.

When she blinked, the scene below changed. It was the party and she could see herself stood by a table talking to Jenny and Cutter. Connor was hovering nearby looking nervous. After what she'd just heard, she knew he was building up to try and tell her he liked her, so what had stopped him? Then she heard Jenny suggest that she asked Connor to dance whilst she dragged Cutter onto the dance floor. Abby realised what had stopped Connor from approaching her. She saw herself look over at Connor and give him 'the look' he'd mentioned to Stephen. No wonder Connor backed off if that was what he saw whenever he tried to get close to her.

“Do you get it now?” Stephen said. “You always treated Connor as if he was something you stepped in. He could never understand why. None of us could.”

Abby felt sick. It was never deliberate. She found it hard to let anyone in, but most seemed to realise that very early on and kept a respectful distance. Connor, however, always seemed to edge a little too close for comfort and she'd take it out on him. 

“I do have a theory now though,” Stephen continued. “Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I think he's got under your skin because the pair of you connected without you realising. You've spent most of your life putting up walls against anyone who tries to get close because you've been hurt by your family, and when Connor came along and got past those walls, you didn't know how to handle it.”

Abby bit her lip. She had connected with Connor, even though he'd annoyed her in those early days. Perhaps it was because they had the shared experience of being in care, even though neither had actually talked about it. The last few weeks after he'd moved out of the flat had been hell. She'd missed having him around but she was only now actually realising that.

“Connor scares you because he's someone that actually gives a damn about you. You're afraid that if you let him into your heart he'll turn into the same kind of monster your mother did.”

She opened her mouth to retaliate – Stephen had no right to say that! But he was gone and she was back at the riverbank. She shivered and gathered her wits about her; being out here alone at this time of night was almost suicide and she should be getting back to the shelter. At first, she stomped angrily with Stephen's words ringing in her ears, but as she got closer to the shelter she calmed down. He was right. She had shut out anyone who got close to her, but Connor just seemed oblivious to all of that and kept coming back, no matter how often she pushed him away. 

Pushing open the doorway, she stood for a moment to watch Connor sleeping. Normally he seemed peaceful as he slept, but tonight his face seemed crumpled as if something was troubling him. It felt like a stabbing in her chest as she realised she was probably the cause of it.

“Connor?” she whispered, hoping that maybe he was only pretending to sleep. He didn't stir. The wind suddenly seemed stronger, whistling around her and chilling her to her bones. She needed to be inside in the shelter with that foil blanket around her. As she moved forward, she felt something pull her back and her instinct made her grab at her spear and dip at the knees to try and throw her assailant over her shoulder and to the ground. 

“You don't want to do that, Abby.” She didn't recognise the voice and when she turned to face him, he was shrouded in a dark shadow that her eyes couldn't penetrate. 

“Who are you?” she demanded to know. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. Being shown her past by people she knew was one thing, but a stranger was something else.

“It's not important who I am, but you'll know me soon enough,” he said. There was a hint of a soft Irish accent, and Abby tried to recall if she had ever known anyone that was Irish. “I guess your head is already spinning with the things you've seen tonight, but there's just one more thing you need to see before the night is over.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“You don't have to. All I ask is you give me a few minutes of your time. What you decide to do after that is up to you.” He nodded and moved away slowly, not turning around. Abby felt strangely compelled to follow him despite her reservations and caught up with him. They walked in silence for some minutes, heading towards the site where they'd last seen Danny Quinn. Connor had marked it and went back there regularly to check for anomaly activity. The shadowy figure stopped and motioned for Abby to stand beside him, which she did without question.

The scene around them changed. It looked like something she'd seen on a photograph, a grainy image taken on the surface of Mars. She could almost feel the intense heat from the sun and the dry atmosphere made her throat tight. “Where are we?” she whispered, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

“Our future,” the man said simply.

“This is Earth?”

“What's left of it, yes.”

Abby swallowed, almost gasping for air as she took it all in. “What happened? Chemical weapons?”

“A couple of crazy scientists built a machine that was meant to harness the power of the anomalies. All it did was create a giant anomaly that swallowed and destroyed life as we know it. The planet was left barren, and the few humans that survived spent their days underground.” 

In the distance, Abby could make out three figures struggling against a sandstorm and then disappearing into the ground. The shadowy figure took Abby's hand and led her over to where the people had disappeared. It was an underground bunker and Abby could hear voices. She recognised her own and Captain Becker's but the third voice was barely audible. 

“We should have seen this coming!” Abby heard herself saying. “Why didn't anyone try to stop them?”

“Would either of them have listened if we'd tried?” Becker replied. “Connor's been like a stranger these last few months.”

The third voice said something that Abby couldn't hear, then she heard her own voice reply, “You can't blame me for this. How was I supposed to know he'd go off the rails?”

“If anyone could have stopped him, it would've been you,” Becker said. “But you chose to bury your head in the sand and push him away when he needed you the most, just like you always have.” There was a venom in Becker's voice she'd not heard before. Connor was one of the crazy scientists that the shadowy figure had talked about; he'd built a machine that destroyed the planet?

“I know,” she replied.

“All Connor wanted was someone to love him as much as he loved them. He spent his life waiting for his mum to return his love and then she died. He was falling apart and he came to you, but you couldn't bring yourself to even hold him just once. He had no-one and that was when Philip Burton pounced on him.”

As she listened, she felt sick. Whatever Connor had done was partly her fault. The realisation of the consequences her actions had on him was finally hitting her and she hated it. “Are you the other person in there?” she finally asked the man beside her. “Do you know Connor?”

“Yes.” He began to move away back towards the shelter. “You've seen all you need to see now. This is where I leave you.”

“No, wait! You said that was the future. I can change it right?”

“Only you know the answer to that,” he said. There was a strong gust of wind and the dust formed a thick cloud that swirled around the man from the future. When it began to settle, he was gone and so was the barren wasteland and underground bunker. Abby was back in the Cretaceous.

The forest was beginning to stir and there was a slight red glow on the far horizon. It was almost sunrise. Christmas day. Abby smiled and took a deep breath. She didn't know if she could change the future she'd just seen in that vision but she could have a damn good try. As she ran back towards the shelter, she thought about what Becker had said about her pushing Connor away when he needed the most. Somehow she sensed that celebrating Christmas meant more to Connor than just a holiday. When she thought about it, he went to see his mother every Christmas, but he wouldn't be able to this year. She had to try and make it a good day for him if it meant so much.

“Improvise!” Abby told herself, searching her surroundings for anything she could use to decorate the place they called home. It was a pretty dismal place and there was little of anything that could even be called pretty here, especially as it was Winter. If she had more time, she could've woven some of the vines into something like chains and threaded them around the trunks of the trees that formed the skeleton of their shelter. 

Then she saw something that would be perfect, just out of reach on a branch above her head. She was used to climbing, and within minutes she was shimmying along the branch and tugging at the bunch of greenery and berries that she'd seen.

By the time she reached the shelter the sun was above the horizon, bathing the clearing in a soft glow. Abby took a deep breath and prepared herself to wake Connor. She stuck her head through the doorway and found that he was hurriedly pulling on his jeans looking worried.

“You're up early,” she said.

“Abby! Where the...? I woke up and you'd gone. I thought.... well after yesterday I thought you might have gone off and...” He took a deep breath. “Should've known better eh?”

“Yes,” Abby smiled. “We're only going to get through this if we stick together. I'm not going to up and leave you. That's a promise.” 

“Good. Suppose I'd better go and cut down those vines ready to fix the roof since I'm already dressed. Those clouds don't look good.”

“It can wait, Connor,” Abby said, placing her hand on Connor's shoulder. “It's Christmas day.”

“But yesterday you said that...”

“I know what I said, and I'm sorry. It's just that I don't really like Christmas. I have some bad memories and I'd rather not be reminded of them, but that doesn't mean I should spoil things for you if you want to try to keep up some of your family traditions.”

Connor's face fell and he looked down at his feet. “Not that keen on it m'self,” he muttered. “I try to make it a good Christmas every year, but since me dad died, mum's not really been there, you know?”

Abby did know, though she couldn't actually tell him that she did without explaining her night and he'd probably think she'd finally lost it if she did. “Well, I was thinking that maybe we could make some new Christmas memories of our own? Just you and I. Christmas our way.” It was a start, and Abby could feel some of the tension between them slipping away.

She moved closer to him and Connor gave her an amused look. At first she wondered what he was looking at, then she remembered the bunch of leaves and white berries in her hand. “Ah, Connor...” She swallowed nervously and held it above their heads. “We're under the mistletoe. Guess that means you have to kiss me.” 

Connor's eyes widened and she could see he wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond. “You do know that isn't actually mistletoe, don't you? It doesn't start to grow for another...”

“I'm improvising! Isn't that what you said we should do yesterday? Of course, if you don't want to kiss me, I can always just stick this on the fire. It should burn quite nicely.”

“I do want to kiss you.” Connor's cheeks reddened and Abby's heart melted. She willed him to find the courage and tried hard not to do anything that would scare him away. As he leaned towards her, she grew concerned that he was going to back away, so she leaned forward and kissed him first. As her lips touched his, she felt something new wash over her. It wasn't the first time she'd kissed him, but it had never felt like this before. Something was definitely changing between them.

“You cheated!” Connor protested, then grinned. He leaned into Abby and put his hands on both of her cheeks before pressing his lips hard against hers. Abby gasped, returning the kiss with an equal enthusiasm. She could almost hear the sound of the walls around her tumbling away and the feeling of freedom was exhilarating.

When they finally broke off the kiss, Abby couldn't help smiling at Connor's flushed cheeks. She couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or arousal, but it didn't matter. It was sweet and endearing. “Merry Christmas,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers and tugging at it to make him sit down next to her by the fire.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Connor said, staring into Abby's eyes and not quite believing what was happening.

“Tell me about your mum,” Abby said. “You must love her a lot if you go to the trouble of visiting her and trying to have a proper Christmas even though she's not well.”

“I do,” Connor began, and then he poured his heart out whilst Abby listened. For the first time, Abby was beginning to understand who Connor really was and why he was the way he was. Before long she knew she'd be telling him things she'd never shared with anyone else before and it would bring them even closer. That thought didn't scare her as much as she thought it would. 

Something else struck her whilst Connor was speaking. The future she'd seen last night was a result of Connor and another scientist building a machine. Becker was there too. That meant that they got home somehow. Suddenly everything seemed so much more positive than it had last night. She would be there for Connor when he needed her and he wouldn't go crazy and destroy the world. Maybe one day in the new future that was already beginning to unfold, she'd be able to say thank you to the mysterious shadowy Irishman for making her wake up and let Connor into her heart.


End file.
